When A Phoenix Rises
by Tear On The Fire
Summary: Galactic armageddon has come, and gone. And it's thanks to Commander Jane Shepard that the defenders have survived to live another day. But the world that she'd come back from the to save, remains as dark and as twisted as it's ever been and the thought, irritates the hell out of her.
1. Burning The Sky

**Summary:** Galactic armageddon has come, and gone. And it's thanks to Commander Jane Shepard that the defenders have survived to live another day. But the world that she'd come back from the to save, remains as dark and as twisted as it's ever been.

The thought irritates the hell out of Shepard and she isn't about to sit ideally while galactic civilization continues to live in a shadow, she's going to live up to her division's name sake. She's going to rise out of the ashes, and defend the galaxy from itself.

**Style note: **I've written this story with a shifting narrator, sometimes it's Samara (as can be identified by the lack of contractions), and most of the rest of the time it's Shepard's (swearing). Sometimes Samara's voice can be somewhat difficult to read, but I feel that the strictness of her inflections, give a lot of insight into her character.

**Name notes: **All non-cannon names given to game characters are based on bastardizations of the voice actor's or model's names for that character.

**Story context:** This Shepard is mostly the default options: Her first name is 'Jane', she's a spacer, but has participated in all three psychological events (Sole Survivor(Akuze); War Hero(Elysium); Ruthless(Torfan)), she's finished every mission and assignment (with some liberties taken in game plot), and saved everyone who could be saved.

She is however, of mixed alignment. For example: She let Balak go to save the hostages but doesn't hesitate to shoot Charn, she stopped Zaeed from torching the refinery before it's evacuated but orders the Normandy to orbitally bombard Vido's gunship, then she pistol whips Zaeed when he throws a hissy about not making the kill, and she defaults to all the snarky dialogue and intimidate options, unless it negatively effects the, 'best possible outcome'.

In game one, she has a relationship with Liara but they can't make it work. In game two, she pursues Samara with the best possible results but it's assumed that they don't sleep together in the Citadel DLC.

Finally, it's also assumed that her EMS and military strength were high enough for the best possible ending, leaving mostly everyone alive and the Citadel and the Relays mostly intact.

**Plot Liberties:** Combat strengths are more based on the books/comics and cut scenes rather than gameplay, Liara is an Ardat-Yakshi but with better meld control then Morinth, the Reapers lied to Shepard and the 'Destroy' option doesn't wipe out the geth or kill EDI (but she loses any Reaper tech in her systems), it's assumed that Shepard was indoctrinated at some point but is no longer, and everything about the Phoenixes is just to give Shepard and Samara more common ground and is based on typical covert strike forces.

**Explicit warning:** I plan to have some sex scene in the story but I'm also plan on making asari physiology, slightly different, so it might be a little weird. As usual, I'll be writing an alternative, R rated version for anyone who wants to skip the erotica and for to comply with 's policies.

**Trigger warnings:** Shepard and Samara sometimes act abusive toward one another, there will be a fairly high gore and ick factor, combat scenes will be realistic and graphic, some characters will suffer PTSD and panic attacks, and there will be a lot of swearing and empty but graphic verbal threats made.

When A Phoenix Rises  
>Chapter 1: Burning The Sky<p>

Justicar Samara Ranear stared threw the large ragged wound in the side of the building, and up into the hideous black clouds scarring the skies above Planet Earth. These oily blankets of death were the congealed gatherings of swirling plumes of thick black ash, the smoke from burning remains, and the chemical vapour from unimaginable decay. Their looming mass cast a bleak shadow of twilight upon the little Globe's face, but the utter darkness was broken by the light of a thousand glowing streaks of weapon's fire.

All around her, the world was in chaos, its life being burnt, its face being scarred, and the beings on its surface, those still alive, were left to fight back a relentless onslaught, but they fought not to simply stay alive, they fought for the right to exist as a species. They fought the Reapers, a race of malevolent machines who had descended upon the galaxy, and while their own worlds were also in ruins, it was here, on the former blue planet, where the war would be turned, or remain on its course until all intelligent life was extinguished.

There was however, a singular hope for survival. A single being of extraordinary capabilities, a human who was made her species' first Counsel Spectre, a woman who brought the galactic civilizations together, a Phoenix warrior who purged the galaxy of the parasitic Collectors, an Alliance N7 operative who destroyed five Reapers, and The Commander who continually inspired hope for the future. That singular being, was Commander Jane Shepard.

And as Samara looked out upon the destruction, she contemplated how the galactic hero had sent her own inner world crumbling, and how since meeting the infuriating, but undeniably alluring Woman, nothing she had held as true, had survived Shepard's tenacity. Her fierce spirit was not confined to enemies one could meet in heated battle, but to anything she deemed to be unfair or unjust, and had fought Samara on her every preconceived notion of propriety and morality. She had torn threw the Justicar's arguments as effortlessly as she tore threw Reapers, but as the universe had been apt to do lately, it interrupted her efforts at trying to understand her own mind.

"Justicar Samara, ma'am," a male Alliance officer, and source of the intrusion, drew her attention to him.

She carefully masked her annoyance behind an impassive, casual glare, before answering, "simply Samara, or Justicar, will be sufficient."

She waited for him to tell her what he wanted, and when he did not, she prompted him.

"What is it Private."

"You have a comm from Commander Shepard ma'am."

Samara took a moment to examined the squad for her section of the Hammer Run, and the beings Shepard had given her to command. Soon, she and her new allies would be fighting and dieing together, and most likely, the comm was to tell her to ready them. The Woman, would also no doubt wish to say goodbye, for the final time, and only when the Justicar had put both thoughts in their proper place, did she nod to the communications Officer.

"You may establish the connection," she ordered; then moved to the Quantum Entanglement Communicator in the corner.

As she approached it, it burst to life with shimmering blue static, but the distortion quickly dissolved into the life sized form of a smirking Shepard. The Woman however, said nothing, and her lopsided grin grew as the silence continued.

Samara for her part, stood at relaxed attention as the Spectre stared, and for several long moments, she attempted to remain detached in the face of such absurdity. Eventually, the monotony seemed broken, when the Commander crossed her arms under her chest and cocked her hip to rest her weight on one side, but to the Justicar's irritation, the Spectre remained quiet.

"Shepard," she greeted a moment later, succumbing to her frustrations, and hoping to end the Woman's immature game. She allowed none of her inpatients to show in her voice or face, but despite her perceived impassiveness, the Commander's smirk grew wide enough to tug at its opposite end.

"Seven seconds," Shepard announced in a mild, humour filled sing-song, "a new record."

The Justicar lifted an unadorned brow, but ignored the comment, "my fire teams are prepared for deployment."

"Mmm," she hummed with amusement, "I'm glad you made it Samara."

"It is an honour to be here my friend."

Shepard bounced on her hip slightly, "will Falere be all right in the monastery, or what's left of it anyway?"

"We spoke for some time," Samara began, resolutely ignoring the Woman's gently shimmying breasts, "it will not be easy, but if there is a way to survive, Falere will find it. And it was," she paused a moment to suppress her pleasure, "good, to see her again." Then lowered her head at the weight of her guilt, "Perhaps it is unseemly for a Justicar to dwell so much on her family."

"Samara," the Commander grumbled, "just be glad you still have one."

"It was fortunate that Falere saw things so clearly. And it would have turned out quite differently without your intervention," she closed her eyes and bowed her head, "Thank you."

Shepard sighed, "did you read T'Soni's information package?"

"I did."

"And?"

Samara breathed out some of her discomfort, but did not allow the sigh she so desired, "it matters very little Shepard."

"God damn it Samara," the Spectre barked, "sometimes you asari piss me off more than the hanar."

"I apologize on behalf of my species," the Justicar replied, allowing the genuine shame she felt to show threw her mask, "for a great many things."

"And what things would those be Samara," Shepard's voice shaded with anger, "Tevos's constant refusal to accept evidence of the Reapers and her manipulation of the other Council members. Or maybe the Matriarchy's coverup of a Prothean beacon," the Woman flung her hands into the air, "until that is, they themselves were attacked."

"Shepard," Samara tried to interrupt, mindful of the other occupants in the room.

"Or maybe," the Commander continued, "you'd all like to apologize for the fact that they knew, knew!" she ground threw clenched teeth and twisted face, "that the asari were genetically engineered to be the galaxy's comely pacifiers and that everything, everything!" she shouted, "about your people was utter bull shit."

"You have failed to mention our continued extermination of the Ardat-Yakshi, to which I have also been complacent."

"I'm a bitch Samara, not a cunt."

The Justicar did sigh then, if only barely, but continued to show no emotion, "this is an old debate between us my friend."

"Hey," Shepard pointed a finger at Samara, her mouth set in a grim, shallow frown, "Don't think I haven't noticed that you've suddenly started calling me, friend," she folded her arms back under her chest, "does that mean you wont be killing me if we survive saving the galaxy?"

"I do not believe we have the time for this argument."

The Woman cocked her head and smirked once again, "actually we do. The geth are still lining up for Shield, Wrex is assembling his Hammer Run's defences, and EDI's getting ready to hack everything from here to hell and back." She returned to bouncing on her hip, "So you and I, get to talk like its six months ago. That is, until we're both once again called away, to die."

"There is nothing to discuss Shepard," Samara stated evenly, "Doctor T'Soni's evidence is quite irrefutable, and I am forced to accept the truth." She held her head a little higher, accepting her own pain at the realization, "all that I have ever believed to be true, was built on falsities. And I have spent my life protecting a set of institutions, that have been at direct odds with what I felt to be righteous."

"Shit Samara," the Woman breathed and turned away, "I never meant to obliterate everything you believed in."

"Then what has been your intention?"

Shepard paused for a long moment, "okay, I did fully intend to obliterate your beliefs. But," she held up a hand, "I would've rather have done it slower and without hurting you."

In the secret depths of her heart, Samara wished for her situation to be different, wished she could simply turn her mind from her conditioning, wished that their deaths were not so certain, wished to the goddess to be given the same singular chance as the rest of the galaxy. But it was not.

"What we desire has very little influence on reality," her voice shifted from her usual detachment, to resigned finality.

"Wow," the Commander replied in a sarcastic huff, "the higher, the fewer, hmm?" Then she shook her head with a deep grin etched in her mouth, "boy, do I ever have a surprise for you then."

"No matter how much we desire a thing, it will never become a reality."

"Christ Samara!" Shepard erupted, "You're such a god damn fatalist. What the hell are we doing here if it's not to change reality with our desires."

"If we are destined to be victorious," she answered calmly and with greater finality, "then we will be."

"The Reapers seem pretty sure that it's *they*, who're the one destined to be victorious."

"If they are, then they will be."

"Samara, if know one knows what the future will bring, then predestination ain't nothing but a word," the Woman mocked as if addressing a dimwitted child.

The Justicar could think of no response to this, so remained silent, and waited for the next wave of her friends well meaninged attack.

Shepard held her eyes a moment longer, but then shook her head, "I'm going to go be a cliche again. You know, live up to my name, set the Reapers on fire, or whatever the hell the Crucible will do, walk out of the ashes, then tell you my surprise, and show you how desires can very much change reality."

"Doctor T'Soni has already informed me," Samara preempted.

The Commander's head flew back, her posture straightening, "no she didn't."

"She has, in her information packet," she added. "But you need not worry, I have no desire to kill the Maiden."

"Wait," Shepard's eyebrows furrowed, "what're you talking about."

"Liara T'Soni is an Ardat-Yakshi," Samara almost said it as a question, her certainty of what her friend was hiding evaporating.

"Hmm," the Spectre gave one of her rare full smiles, "interesting that she actually told you. But no, different surprise. One you might actually go homicidal over."

"I have no desire to kill you my friend. In your case, the Code could never have been correct."

"Finally!" Shepard burst out with thrown arms.

To Samara's ear, she actually sounded relieved, but then, the spectre quickly turned away as someone out of the range of the QEC interrupted her.

"What," the Woman paused a moment, "and the advanced teams?"

Knowing that their time had come, the Justicar looked about her group again, and examined their readiness.

"Keep Normandy nearby," the Commander continued to whom ever Samara could not see, "Anderson?" she nodded, "send some geth to Samara." She lifted her arm out of the QECs range, "hah! Fuck you Garrus, you're buying. And can you even get drunk in the afterlife, 'cause if not, I'm out." Another pause, "T'Soni and Zorah, get your asses in gear, you two are coming with me," then turned back to the Justicar, "alright," her eyes flared with mania, "time to die."

"I believe you take your battalion's mythology too literally," Samara replied to the Woman's antics; then immediately wished she had kept the mild outburst to herself.

"Renovatio per ignes baby," Shepard shot back with a salacious smirk, but sobered before continuing, "Stay safe Samara, I'll be back before you know it."

"We'll both be tested in fire soon enough," she replied. Then stood at stiffer attention, "I know you do not care for such things, but goddess go with you Shepard."

"Yeah sure," the Spectre's voice dripped with mocked sincerity, "just what I need, another prothean following me around. Anyway, I should go, I'll see you in about a half hour."

With that, the QEC immediately went dead, leaving Samara to once again, look over the beings whom would be defending one of their allies' key access points.

First, she spied her fellow Justicar Amari, clad in blue trimmed Alrdin armour and tasked with using a biotic sphere to hold their forward line. Next to her, a young maiden wearing a similar, but less expensive model, and who would stay in reserve until needed. A few feet from them, a male Alliance soldier, he would be their sniper element. Beside him, another male human, but armoured in Blue Sun's colours and hefting a fuel tank on his back. In a corner, a group of asari commandos, adorned in varyingly coloured leathers and possessing equally varied biotic gifts. Near the counter of food, several more humans, likewise with varying biotic and weapon talents. And finally, a group of turians and krogans, each trying to stand as far apart from one another as possible, while at the same time, standing as near as they could without appearing to do so.

This eclectic collection of beings was Samara's to lead, and she knew with certainty, her sister asari would follow her instructions. The other species however, she only hoped would defend one another, and not do something ill advised. They of course had their primary orders, positions and roles to fill during the Hammer Run, but the specifics were up to the Justicar. She alone bore the responsibility of their fate.

She would have much preferred to be the one taking orders, to be told were best to lend her strength, and while it was true that she was an accomplished military operative, her nearly every victory had been won at the direction of others, not as the one leading her group. Shepard on the other hand, had other opinions of her talents and had given her the task of protecting Hammer Run's flank, of protecting the Commander herself as she attempted the ultimate victory. It was a duty she had accepted with honour, and with the full intention of being successful, despite her lack of qualifications.

"This is Adam Hammer," Admiral Anderson's voice came over her comm, braking Samara's musings, "ready yourselves for the run."

With her deployment ordered, she sprinted for the doorway, while pressing a finger near her auditory membrane, "Lucen on route." Then, without looking back, she shouted at her team, "to your positions."

Samara continued her run for the several hundred meters it took to get to her assigned area, and did not once check to see if her team was following her. She assumed, as Shepard does when leading her into battle, that they would do as she said and if they did not, it was best to discover their insubordination now, and before all their lives hung in the balance. Eventually, she reached a male in heavy combat gear who saluted her.

"Commander Wallis, N7," he greeted, "Our losses have been minimal but they've been attacking in odd patterns." He shook his head, "we can't get a bead on it, don't get comfy if there's a lull."

Several of her team sprinted passed, as she shouted back, "Samara, Justicar Code warrior. Thank you, you are relieved."

The N7 operative balked at her terse reply, but then quickly shook it off. "Can I ask you something Samara?"

"If you must," she allowed, the bulk of her team running by.

"Who'd you piss off to get this assignment. I mean, this is one of the secondary routes for the Reapers to get to Hammer. Once they start run'n, this place's gonna be like a relay before Christmas."

"I was asked by Commander Shepard to defend this position."

"Shit, forget what I said." He looked back to her now fully assembled team, all in position and already fighting a group of husks, "but you're gonna be hit hard honey. I'll send runners with clips and rations but, you're on your own for the next hour. My team's got nothing left."

"I Understand Commander," Samara nodded; then tried to dismiss him again, "I have the position."

"Right," he was a little confused, but took off in the direction the relief team had come, shouting into his comm on the way, "Lima withdrawing, Lucen deployed."

The Justicar looked to her forward group in time to see that a husk, had broken threw their line and was charging at her. She quickly turned towards it while taking a half-step back, and braced herself to engage the glowing abomination of synthetic replaced human flesh. She then flung a biotic Throw at the hideous creature, impacting it dead centre and sending its hopefully crushed body flying for meters. When it struck the ground, it crumpled over itself, tumbling and rolling with its limbs folding in unnatural positions. She thought it very likely dead and hoped, that the being it once was, was at peace.

Around her, her teams were similarly engaged. At the forward position, her fellow Justicar had constructed her biotic sphere between two ruined buildings, blocking a previously easily accessible route. Beside her, and standing on the wreckage of a mako, the Blue Sun's merc sprayed his flame thrower at the ground forces trying to breach the barrier. A few meters behind herself and slightly to her right, the Alliance soldier knelt atop a small rise, firing his sniper rifle at anything he had line of sight to.

Then a sound to her right, drew Samara's attention to a collection of brutes rounding the building. The gurgling, belching, and roaring sounds bellowing from the once krogan, sent uncomfortable chills up the back of her neck, as the massive horned and armoured beasts rushed into the defensive position. She threw a Reave field at them, before unloading a thermal's worth of shots from her Typhoon, a much cherished gift from Shepard. In seconds, the projectiles tore her targets to wormwood, and sent them in tattered pieces to the ground.

"Incoming! Forward left!" a human male's voice bellowed over the cacophony of her weapon.

From the other end of their split bottleneck, a banshee and two marauders came into view. The abomination, whose crest was the only surviving asari trait, threw a Warp, while the still very turian looking creatures opened fire.

"Sniper! Aim for the mind suckers head!"

The slur falling out of one of her sistren vanguard's mouth, sickened Samara, despite the thought that the older maiden may not know any better. She could not yet know that the protheans had planted that misguided seed, could not know that one percent or more of the asari were Ardat-Yakshi. She herself could have a mild case of the loathed condition, and would never have thought that her mate having a mild headache after melding, was often the only symptom. And how likely was it that Samara, a pureblood herself, was one of those feared beings. How many of Samara's own mates had had headaches. How many suffered a mild discomfort, yet said nothing.

She pushed the thought out of her mind and burned threw another thermal on the marauders, but as her rifle alternately blinded her with its strobing flash, she watched in slow motion as a final round from the soldier's rifle, shattered the banshee's head in a sludge and synthetics filled explosion. Unable to suppress her mind conjuring an instant of horror, she imagined the creature was Mirala, the thought making her feel nothing but sympathy for the violated asari. The banshee could have lived a life similar to Liara's, if only she had been allowed the opportunity to do so. Instead, she and the other Justicars had herded her, and Samara's daughters into gilded cages, were they had fallen easy prey to the Reapers.

A moment later, the marauders went down amid a spray of harden minerals and inorganic fluids, but they were quickly replaced by a harvester, lumbering into the kill zone, while from behind the shuttle sized quadruped's legs, four more husks weaved around them, bringing themselves in line with her team, and despite what Commander Wallis had suggested, she did not believe there would be a lull.

Samara then noticed the asari vanguard was hurling a lift grenade at the enormous beast, and quickly launched a Reave at the weapon. The two biotic energies exploded in a vicious shock-wave that sent body parts in all directions, but the harvester remained intact, and brought its massive head to bare down on Amari.

The younger Justicar stared unflinchingly back up at it, and held her barrier, waiting for the moment when it would kill her, but Samara's anxiety at loosing their defence point, dulled when a large red geth sprinted beside the other asari, and fired at the would be killer.

"This is Adam Hammer," Admiral Anderson's voice on her comm, broke the drone of gun fire, "we're making our run. Repeat, Hammer is running."

The once enemy, now valued ally, helped them make quick work of the harvester and thankfully, the abomination's massive death explosion, destroyed a few other ground troops converging on them. The geth fought by their sides with as much force as any organic, but It did not look to be in good fighting condition. It leaked and oozed white fluid from holes and seams, and It seemed to favour one leg as It moved and repositioned to fire at the ever approaching creatures.

More husks, more humans who had been taken and remade into something the Reapers could use as a weapon, rushed at them, but there were too many for Samara to count quickly. The swarm was large enough that it would inflict heavy casualties onto her anti-flanking defence team, but then, and without warning, the geth ran into the mass of dementedly augmented organics. Her team was careful not to hit their ally, but as soon as It reached the centre of the group, It exploded. The fireball It threw with Its death, encompassed nearly all the berserking husks. It seemed that the woman who had the ability to reunite them with their estranged creators, also had the ability to inspire them to commit self-sacrifice.

The pressure against them hardly eased, as swarmers began to appear along with their ravagers. Husks and brutes supported the swarmers surging and falling numbers, as they rushed to explode themselves in a spray of acid against her teams, but the tiny cyber-creatures' waves kept coming.

In the ten earth minutes they had been fighting, an endless parade of violent confrontation banged against their battle lines, but thankfully, a member of her team had yet to be seriously injured. Still, in that short time, a small mountain of thermal clips had grown to Samara's right, with the corresponding sea of magazines scattered about her feet. She knew, soon their growing exhaustion would overtake them; then, the Reapers would.

"Samara," Amari's strained voice shouted over the sounds of constant weapons' fire, "I cannot hold the barrier."

The older Justicar could clearly see that biotic energy was leaking from the other asari's armour. She knew how painful the white-blue light would be as it flowed and pulsed over Amari's body, but there was no option for rest, the Reapers would never stop coming, and they dared not hold back even a miniscule portion of their force, but their strength was beginning to wane, their time was slowly running out.

"You will Amari," Samara shouted back, "or we die."

"Fuck!" her sniper spat at the proclamation, "we need to bug out!"

But Samara would not give that order, because if Hammer's efforts were unsuccessful, there would be no place for them to run to. There was no retreat, no stepping back. Their line must be held at all costs, and to Samara's mild surprise, not a single member of her teams moved, they held their positions.

However, Amari began to cower closed eyed under the pain of her exertion, she would not last much longer; then, she would fall and their enemies would have an unrestricted path into their centre. Samara was weighing her options while haphazardly spraying her submachine gun into a group of swarmers, when the maiden who had stood beside the younger Justicar in their assembly area, ran to the exhausted asari's side to take up the position.

The maiden could not be older than two-hundred years, and Amari did not look as though she would leave to rest in the rear-guard, but before Samara could order her to go, Shepard's voice distracted her.

"Phantom-one, Phoenix-sierra-two, mike-foxtrot-tango," the Woman shouted over the comm, gunfire and the most goddess awful noises filling the background.

"On our way Phoenix," Joker's reply came somewhat distorted.

Samara had left the Normandy's channels and encryption keys programed into her own comm, in the hopes that she might hear some news on the assault's progress, or maybe, just for a chance to hear Shepard's voice when the end came.

"Do you want Doc-Chak in the shuttle bay for the hand off," the Pilot added.

"Affirmative Phantom, Doc-Blue is mike-charlie-tango and Glitch is juliett-whiskey."

"Copy Phoenix, ETA three minutes."

The people Samara might have come to regard as friends, if The Code had allowed, were injured, and Shepard was now on her own to make the Hammer run. The Woman was a truly glorious and righteous individual, an unceasing warrior who effortlessly rallied others to the cause, and the Justicar knew for certain, the Commander would not turn back from her task. She might send her people to safety, but for herself, she would die by insurmountable odds, rather than give up.

Thankfully however, Samara was saved from further exploring such thoughts, as several geth sprinted into position among her teams. One moved to stand near the biotic sphere, grabbing Amari as It stopped.

"Asari defender," It addressed her, "it's recommended that you vacate the area immediately," It then shoved the overly fatigued asari toward their reserves position.

The younger Justicar stumbled backwards for several moments before landing on her rear. Immediately, she tried to pick herself up, but only managed to tumble over her arm in utter exhaustion.

Samara once again ignored the other Asari, as she hurled a biotic Throw into a Warp a human launched into the centre of three ravagers. The energies detonated, delivering the death blows to the bloated, once rachni creatures, and spilt their semi-formed brood to twitch uselessly on the ground.

The effort of using her biotics so often, set her hands and arms throbbing, and she took a moment to rub at them, but their was very little she could do to sooth the excruciating pain dancing over her skin. Every patch not properly covered by her uniform, burned and twinged, but unlike Amari, who was now being helped to stand and moved further away from direct combat, Samara would not get a longer moment to recuperate.

One of the geth, who looked much the same as the one which sacrificed Itself for them, glided over to speak to her.

"Squadron Lucen director," It's light of a face stared down at her, "I've been instructed to follow your commands in this engagement. Where do you require my fire support platforms?"

Samara examined her teams for a moment. In truth, every one of them needed the geth support, unfortunately there was simply not enough of the friendly synthetics to assist every one.

"Where ever best you deem them," she instructed it with little hesitation, "but I would request that you concentrate on the open areas to either side of our position."

"By your command, asari director," It then lifted Its head and made a series of noises.

The other geth began to spread-out, taking up positions on their own, as well as ones in amongst her teams.

It lowered Its head to addressed Samara again, "may I also inquirer as to where our fire support leader is."

"You do not know?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Do to our current state of sentience and the conditions of the current engagement, we are unable to network as we once did."

"It sacrificed Itself as It began to malfunction," Samara answered evenly, and watched as the geth turned to the wreckage strewn battle field. Its hesitation and slower movements, could almost bring her to believe that It looked mournful.

"I understand asari director," It turned back to the Justicar, "the remaining geth will consider Its sacrifice for an extended length of time. It preferred the designation, Solitaire." It then left to take a position on slightly higher ground.

The addition of more geth was certainly helping her defensive teams, they even gave her a chance for a minor respite, but her group's condition was poor. Far less dire than it could have been, but still, uncomfortably close to collapse. With some of the geth helping cover their flanks, while a few took long range shots to damage approaching forces before they were even within range, ravagers fell before they could be fully engaged, and the brutes and cannibals which made it to their lines, took much less to take down. Samara was considering that they might yet survive the battle.

Then, the maiden fell.

With the young Asari collapsed and unmoving on the ground, her face blotched in deep purple and covered in blisters, her biotic sphere disintegrated. Swarmers instantly rushed threw the gap, and leapt onto the Maiden before Samara could react. She forced herself to ignore the chemically cooking body in favour of trying to save the Blue Sun, and threw as much as she could at the onslaught, as did her allies, trying to give the Pyro a chance to escape, but he did not budge.

He only held his weapon tighter, swept his flames over the swarmers faster, and put as much effort into burning their scurrying bodies to a crisp. She supported his effort to hold off the tide as best as she could, until one of the swarmers ruptured the fuel generator on his back, causing it to BLEVE into a ball of liquid fire.

In the face of the heat and noise filled flare, her Alliance Sniper billowed out his previous suggestion. "We need to fall back!"

This time however, Samara agreed, "withdraw to reserve position!"

The group began a slow retreat, carefully rushing backwards while continuing to try to defend themselves, but the geth stayed their positions. They held true to their pledge that there would be no more compromise with the old machines, and held the onslaught at bay, giving their organic allies time to reposition.

Then husks, who had been absent for the past few minutes, berserked toward them and flooded onto the group's side of the ruined buildings. The area filled with the corpses of reaper abominations as even more trampled over their broken bodies. Hope seemed well and truly lost, all their deaths a close certainty, but then their comms came to life with the first truly good new since their deployment.

"All comm nets, this is Adam Shield. Phoenix has made it to Caleston. We need to give her time to work. Everyone hold on for a few more minutes, we're in the final stretch."

The announcement had the desired effect. All those around her, herself included, pushed with strength they did not know they still had. They reloaded faster, threw their biotics sooner, and fell back slower. Justicar Amari even appeared beside her, not looking at all healthy, yet still, looking ruthlessly determined.

"Samara," the younger Justicar seethed and spit threw clenched teeth, "detonate." She then trapped two ravagers within a biotic Sphere.

Samara did her part, and threw a Reave at the other Justicar's biotic energy, causing it to explode spectacularly, while taking the mutated rachni with it. Without pause, Amari trapped a marauder and a husk but when she detonated this one, the marauder did not go down. The Alliance sniper quickly took aim at it, and finished it off with a strike to the head.

With their new hope protecting them like a shroud, she barked at her synthetic allies, "geth! Fall in!"

They did as she ordered, while she and Amari cleared four more Reaper abominations, but the other Justicar's strength began to give once more. She had helped Samara's teams fight off the worst of this wave, and shed their heavy cloak of exhaustion, but it seemed that fatigue would remain their constant companion, that is, until she spotted the promised runner coming in from the rear guard.

He refilled everyone's magazine bag, and stood by as each down some nutrient fluid that he brought; then when he came to Amari, she tore her gloves off and requested he pour a water pouch over her hands. It allowed Samara to catch sight of her fellow Justicar's injury, and the minor shame she had not fully realized had grown within her, when the younger asari did not immediately get up and defend her allies, evaporated. She could clearly see that Amari's hands and forearms would never heal, her palms were death white and deep black streaks ran from her wrists to her elbows.

Seeing her elder spying her hands, the younger Justicar looked into the other Asari's eyes. "Samara," she began, her voice unwavering, "I must ask you for a kindness."

Samara answered the unasked question immediately, "if the time comes, I will not hesitate."

Silence descended around the two Justicar's, the battle seemingly entering a short reprieve, likely due to the Reapers focusing on the new threat in orbit, and neither were in a shape to refuse the respite.

A moment or two later, Amari broke the hypnotic lull. "It is my hope that Nevi did not suffer unduly."

"Whom," Samara replied.

"The maiden," she answered, her voice still completely even, "my daughter."

Utterly unable to stop them, Samara's thoughts flooded with the painful memories of her own daughters. Mirala's execution, Rila's sacrifice, Falere alone on a dead planet, her own aborted suicide, and the code's demand that she ignore the emotions those memories stirred.

Her mind swirling with those heartaches, the older Justicar spoke in a voice that was just as even as her companion's had been, "I empathize with your loss."

For a brief moment, silence once again engulfed them, but once again, Amari broke it to share her private pain, "I have become of no more use than a root with which to trip our enemies over."

"Excuse me," Samara prompted, genuinely lost.

She held up her hands, "I can no longer hold a weapon," then looked down at them, her gaze even, "I can no longer feel or move my fingers."

Compassion, the enemy of the Justicars, but the sword by which Shepard attacked her enemies. Brutality was the Woman's shield, and she held it for the damned to flail and die upon, but she struck with compassion. Shepard was the champion of compassion, the hero of empathy, but she and the other Justicar's, they were nothing more than blind, naive killers.

"Then seek shelter," Samara replied, taking to her dear friend's example and offering the other asari compassion.

Amari quickly objected, "I would be of more use here."

"As an obstacle to slow the Reapers advancements, you would be sorrily inadequate. As a defender, you are handicapped beyond immediate repair. And if you remain, your presents may cause the others to attempt to aid you, thereby weakening themselves."

The younger Justicar looked at her elder as if her crests had suddenly flared.

"The Code will not be satisfied by your remaining," Samara asserted, "if you wish me to end your life now, rather than wait until you have no ability to defend yourself with even simple movement, I will do so."

Amari stared in confusion for a moment longer; then cast her eyes down and bowed minutely, "as you order Justicar."

No good would come from letting the other asari die, and Shepard would never allow something so foolish to occur.

"Hey," her Sniper called out to her as Amari left, "you a matriarch?"

Samara's unadorned brow rose impressively, "do human's not have some kind of convention on asking others their age?"

"Jeez," he made a face, "I didn't think you asari got uppity 'bout that kinda thing."

The Justicar looked to their new forward position, now dominated by several more geth, a number of rachni, and a few elcor. They were holding their line while she recovered and she was suitably impressed by the elcor. They were making a good job of picking off targets with their massive weapons, but if they once again became swarmed, the giants would be the first to fall.

"Elcor," Samara shouted, "move behind our ranged line." She watched them until satisfied that they were following her orders before turning to answer the male. "No, I am not a matriarch."

"Mmm," the Soldier hummed then held out a wrapped stick of food towards her, "candy bar?"

She scoffed, "asari cannot metabolize sucrose."

"Good thing it's mostly fructose then."

The Male's grin made Samara want to cringe, she wasn't sure why, but he was most definitely cringe worthy. She shook her head, her emotions were getting the better of her.

"You think Shepard's doing alright up there," he continued.

The notion that someone would question Commander Jane Shepard's competence, was ill considered in the extreme. There was no award, no title, that any being could give her that could match the one she earned for herself. Shepard, was the galactic savour and Samara was prepared to tell the dull stone exactly that, when she realized how very maiden her thoughts were.

"We will know soon enough," she forced her wayward emotions back under control.

The man continued despite the Asari's flat tone, "she's been up there a long time."

Samara looked at him with bland shock, "it has not yet been even five earth minutes."

"Oh, fuck," he breathed, his face slacken and eyes filled with terror.

The Justicar turned to see what had made him look so terrified and was met with the sight of a large Reaper Destroyer. It was only a few hundred meters away, and for a moment she was stunned still. Salvation had been within sight and Samara had taken momentary comfort in the knowledge that Shepard would soon release the destructive power housed within the Crucible but the endless minutes had passed relentlessly without her, each one bringing them closer to their inevitable deaths.

It shook the ground as it landed and shredded the air with a deafening sound. The noise was very much like the grind of two massive objects rubbing together, but many times louder. Then, the reaper's huge red eye opened and rained a beam of energy down upon an elcor fighter. He vaporized instantly. A second shot took two geth troopers. It moved forward, firing on another group a hundred meters away.

Samara had not even known they was another group so close by. She was powerless to intervene, powerless to stop such a large destructive entity, and she watched with a mixture of impress and horror when instead of fleeing, the remaining elcor fired their cannons and tromped toward the massive semi-organic abomination. She chose not to retreat either, but rather, she flung her biotics at it, not even taking the time to refine what kind of energy she was throwing. The others of her group similarly fired whatever was in their hands or threw their biotics as mindlessly as she.

The black, insect like beast ignored them, and continued to choose targets in its seemingly random way, killing everything in its sight with sickening ease. It turned slowly, raining vaporizing beams of energy as its gaze shifted. Then a beam struck the ground close enough for Samara to feel it and the human male was gone, nothing left of him except a scorched depression in the ground. They had no options, no weapon for such a monster, but then, the burble of a shuttle's engines filled the air. The small Alliance craft bee-lined for the armoured giant. The Reaper turned to attack it but was not quick enough, and the little ship smashed into it. The brave pilot was most certainly killed but his sacrifice was not in vain, the reaper was damaged, its movements slowed.

Samara and an asari commando coordinated with one another, attacking the Reaper's joins and trying to at least cripple it, but their effort was of little use. Death was creeping upon them, but she refused to let her's come easily, she would resist it. They need only last a few minutes longer, a short time until Shepard could release the Crucible's unimaginable destructive energy at the Reapers, but with each second that ticked by, her hopes dwindled.

The end was near, but she would fight it to her last breath, she would burn her nervous system to liquid throwing her very last spark of biotics, she would fight until her body ran cold, she would commit herself utterly. The alternative was far more horrible. She fought alongside Shepard when she defeated the proto-human Reaper, and she would not die by those terms, she would not become a raw material for them to consume.

"Phoenix-sierra-two, Adam Shield, New Moon," Samara's stomach sank at the sound of Admiral Hackett's voice. For her to hear him, he would need to be using the Normandy's channels.

The Reaper destroyer pivoted to turn its weapon on her group again, never stopping from firing its energy beam. She pushed her teams back quicker.

"Phoenix-sierra-two, this is Stellar-Hush, your window is dark, over," he tried again.

Samara and her team took cover behind a building, just as the Reaper vaporized a shuttle in half.

"Shepard, this is Hackett, can you hear me."

The Justicar waited for the reply while shearing a husk apart with her biotics.

"Commander!" the Admiral bellowed, "Jane!"

Samara sinking sensation turned into burning, if Shepard could not fire the Crucible, then everything was for nothing and she would never again hear from the first being in nearly half a millennia she considered a friend.

"Sir," Shepard's voice sounded small and weak, but it filled the Justicar with relief, "I can't... Not sure..."

"Shepard, what's your SitRep," Hackett asked softly.

"Illusive sir..."

"Can you see if there's something wrong? The Crucible's not firing."

The sound of wet coughing flooded Samara's comm, "I don't see... how to..." the Woman's voice was filled with pain.

"Do what you can. There's got to be something," there was real desperation in the Admiral's voice.

A harvester exploded nearby, but the Justicar hardly noticed.

"Commander?" Hackett tried again, "Shepard!"

The Reaper ripped threw a geth fighter, sending it crashing into an already ruined building.

"Janie! Can you hear me!"

It cut a line of destruction into the ground between the buildings Samara's group was hiding behind.

"Normandy requesting permission to mount rescue," Joker spoke up.

A human woman trying to sprint from one cover to another was vaporized in its path.

"Granted Normandy," the Admiral replied, "then get the hell out of here. The Reapers are breaking through Shield. You've only got a few minutes until they blow the Crucible."

A group of quarians began rounding the corner.

"Aye sir."

She reached around to grab their suits two at a time and yank them behind the wall.

"All comm nets, this is Adam," the Admiral's voice came back on, but he paused.

They had lost, their end was upon them, and Samara began resigning herself to her fate, of dying for this truly just, if lost cause.

"This is Hackett," he began again. "The Crucible has failed. Choose your targets, make your decisions, and make them count. And humanity thanks you for your support."

Above her, another shuttle streaked into view and flew directly at the Reaper. Beside her, the geth came out from behind their cover, no doubt to make a run at the old machine. The rest looked to her for orders.

This was Samara's final moment. Her life was over, and she had not lived it well. She had clung for centuries to a collection of worthless ideals and made no effort to resist when she felt them wrong. The asari Code, the Code of the Justicars, had always been unjust and she had always new this. Knowing that it was based on a people who where nothing more than brutal conquerors, absolved her of no guilt. Learning that the Goddess Athame was a charlatan, nothing more than a Prothean, didn't suddenly make her worship of the idol any more illogical. The Matriarchy, her government, the elders she had trusted since she was a pre-maiden, could have ended the war before it began, but hid the knowledge so that her people could gently dominate the other species.

Samara had let her daughters be tormented and die, for no justifiable reason. She had refused Shepard, when all she really wanted, was to finally heal the wounds of her bondmates death. All that was left to her, was to die with some manner of dignity.

The now former Justicar pushed herself off the wall and walked to the edge of her fire teams' cover, before turning back to address them.

"Our time has ended," she spoke calmly, and slowly, "It is time for you to choose your own paths."

Samara then turned and sprinted around their corner. Once a target was in sight, she began to fire relentlessly. In front of her, the geth were doing much the same. Behind her, she heard some of her group following, likewise firing at any Reaper target. They ran into battle without a thought to their safety, without the care of tomorrow. Tomorrow would never come, and despite the best effort of most, life was racing toward extinction, the galaxy doomed for another fifty thousand years.

Her reserve teams came out from the buildings as well; then, Commander Wallis and his team. The air filled with the sounds of hidden shuttles powering up. Amari sprinted past, her nearly dead arm outstretched with a constant flow of biotics cascading from her shoulder out off the end of her fingertips.

The guests and inhabitants of Earth, raced to throw themselves upon the Reapers' swords, hoping to strike as much damage as they possibly could before their end.

Without a single consideration holding her back, Samara let go of her emotions and allowed them free rein. She allowed anger and rage and regret and desperation full force within her mind. She allowed herself to feel the loss of what had been growing within her for many months, the bright spark of love for Shepard. She allowed herself to be bathed in these emotions; then took them, twisted them with her biotics, and hurled them at the Reapers.

The air filled with thick clouds of white-blue and endless streaks of red.

Terrible, desperate screams filled the air.

Then, a new sound overpowered the old, followed by a growing orange glow approaching from the distance. The light had the appearance of a flame as it cast its warm hue, but the bright flicker did not fall just on the ground and buildings, it made the very clouds themselves burn. Its mass of swirling colour caused the berserking forces to slow and come to a halt, it even drew the attention of the Reaper Destroyer.

Shepard had done it, she had released the cleansing fire to wash away the plague, and although it appeared to Samara as though they too would be consumed by its force, she could accept this manor of death peaceably, and with the knowledge that the Reapers would die with her.

Her dark lilac lips cracked with a shallow smile as she watched the seething energy wave approach. It was truly beautiful, and brought to mind many other truly beautiful things, but it was a much beloved prayer that drew her focus and she took a deep, refreshing breath to speak it aloud.

"As I leave this place," Samara closed her eyes as she took comfort in the words, "may I go with the Goddess. May she be behind me, to encourage me. Beside me, to befriend me. And above me, to watch over me."

With the sound of the energy wave mixing and reflecting her voice, she continued to recite with her thoughts filled with Shepard, and her face laxed in reverence, "may she be beneath me, to lift me from my sorrows. Within me, to give me the gifts of hope and love. And always may she be before me, showing me the way."

Then, with her final breath, she whispered her benediction.

"Shepard."

An instant later, her nerve endings came alive as the energy wave enveloped her skin. For that instant, it was overwhelming. She felt a thousand sensations all at once, but it wasn't painful, it was oddly peaceful, and for the briefest of moments, she was convinced that she felt Shepard's presents surrounding her alone with the energy.

Samara felt free. Her mind and heart were clear for the first time since she had received the terrible news that her daughters were Ardat-Yakshi, since before Mirala had ran, and the world was utterly calm in the aftermath of the Crucible's fire.

The end was as peaceful as she ever wished it to be and her eyes remained closed, the small smile still on her lips, and her weapon dangled uselessly at her side. She was completely oblivious and drowning in the afterglow of releasing herself over to her desires.

Her life had not been all bad. She had dearly enjoyed her adventures as a mercenary, a sensation Shepard had allowed her to recapture. She had loved her bondmate deeply for the short decades they had together and her heart had been filled with such pride as she watched her children growing. Even her terrible pursuit of Mirala, had its fill of adventure, and her daughter had done many things in amongst the horrible ones, that continued to give her pride.

Samara's reality was slowed, her perceptions unfocused, but a metallic grinding sound and shouts of celebration piercing the air, snapped her out of her hypnotic daze and she again opened her eyes to the sight of the Reaper Destroyer. Only this time, it was crumpling lifelessly to the ground. The husks and other Reaper abominations, were likewise laying broken and scattered.

Samara was alive, her allies were alive, and maybe...

"Shepard," she breathed the Woman's name as realization and hope washed over her.

There might be a chance, Shepard could have survived. She could have evacuated the Citadel before the energy wave had been released. She could have escaped to Hammer's rally point, to where the mass conduit had been.

With those thoughts, and her heart driving her, Samara sprinted off toward the only place she thought Shepard could be.


	2. Tripping the Abyss

**Summary:** Shepard finds herself in the middle of Hammer Run's No Man's Land with little idea of how she got there.

When A Phoenix Rises  
>Chapter 2: Tripping the Abyss<p>

Pain. Shepard's entire world was pain. Nothing but agony existed a millimetre beyond her skin. The distance was the terminator of her world, and the event horizon of her misery. A searing, scorching heat bled from her skin, radiated to that invisible barrier; then was sucked back in to reburn her nerve endings. Even the breeze that moved about the world beyond, never touched or cooled her tormented skin, it only flowed over her pocket of suffering. Her body was a black hole, an inescapable singularity of aching pain.

"Fuck", even her hair hurt.

As her consciousness broke the thickened surface of her mind, a terrible groan exploded from her throat, and she gripped at the dirt under her hands. How'd the fuck did she get here. Why'd her stomach hurt so fucking much. It felt like a hot poker had sliced through her front and tore threw her back. Her head was pounding, the blackness spun relentlessly, and the smell filling her senses, was horrific. The heavy scent of cooked meat, a light caramelly undertone, and a strong hint of hot copper, would've been appetizing if she hadn't known where it was coming from. Instead, the barbeque gone wrong, interlaced with the sharpness of burning plastics, created a vile, sickly sweet slurry of choking and gagging.

Shepard wanted nothing more than to get away from the scent of charred human, and so, she pushed past her pain, braced her forearms against the dirt, and tried to roll over onto her side. But the vertigo made her over compensate and she ended up tumbling down the small rise that she was apparently on.

"Fuck," she spat again, was she ever glad that she hadn't eaten anything for a while.

Eventually the Phoenix came to a stop, and thankfully, it was on level ground. She laid there for a moment, or a lifetime, trying to regain her strength, and waited for her insides to stop rolling around; then, she pushed herself up again. This time, she was able to anchor herself and stay in a half lying position. Another moment, or another lifetime later, she tried to force her eyes open, but they only fluttered. It felt like some unseen force was pulling at her skin and clawing at her body. Again she gathered her strength, again she through force at her eyelids and managed to let a blurry sliver of light slip past them.

What she saw was an ominous black sky and an expanse of sickly grey, slightly oily looking dirt. A few meters to her right, sat a destroyed gunship, a few dozen to her left, a couple of makos, and all around her lay body parts. Lots of body parts. A few helmets were nearby and she really didn't want to know if they were empty or not. She could see boots and legs and pieces of armour, but no whole bodies. Why weren't there any whole bodies. And why did it feel so strange that there weren't any.

Nothing seemed right and she couldn't remember a god damn thing. Her mind swirled with half realized images of bodies and bleeding and a sea of boiling shifting red energy, but so little else surfaced. She couldn't even remember where her weapons were, or where the Normandy was.

The name of her ship sparked off a litany of memories, and caused her to instinctively reach up to her ear and push down her tragus.

"Phantom-one, Phoenix-sierra-two, sierra-romeo," she croaked, her voice hoarse and craggy.

Shepard stayed silent for a moment, her world spinning and twisting.

"Normandy, Shepard, how copy, over." Another moment passed with no reply. "Any Alliance or ally, this is Shepard, november-charlie." Again she was met with bleak silence.

The sense of anxiety that'd been building steadily in her chest, now seared and stabbed. Her bleary hazy eyes, stung like they were acid washed. The heat that'd been burning her skin, sliced at her like razorblades. She had nothing, no working equipment, no useful information, and she could hardly move. It drove her to extreme frustration but she refused to give into incapacity. Forcing herself over onto all fours, she tried to elephant crawl away from wherever she'd awoken, but with the first step, she fell over onto her side.

"Fuck!" She cried out in pain and frustration. Then screamed, "move you god damn bitch, on your feet!"

Again, she forced herself onto all fours, but this time, threw her arms into the ground and pushed herself off into a sprint. Stumbling and drifting, she managed to run for a few meters before crashing to the ground in a heap of agony.

"Up damn you! UP!"

She seethed and sprayed wet anger through her teeth, and pushed herself back up into another stumble. Her vertigo continued to try to topple her over, but she veered and dodged to keep herself going. With the mission of moving filling her head, and with searing stinging pain attacking them, she finally managed to tear her eyes fully open, and took in the complete devastation surrounding her.

Shepard found herself in a swath of empty devastation, buffeted on either side by mountains of rubble and debris, and a shallow slope was ahead of her with ruined buildings not far from its summit. Everything looked familiar but also horribly wrong. Hadn't she just been here, but running in the other direction, and surrounded by dozens of other soldiers. Now the place was dead empty and utterly devoid of another living thing.

Managing to stay upright, she stopped for a moment and looked around. The strange spike shapes that'd surrounded the energy beam, were still standing at the other end but the beam itself was gone. The Reaper was gone too. So were the husks.

Her mind raced, causing her headache to intensify. Had they done it, had they fired the Crucible. If so, then how the hell could she still be alive, she'd expected to die. The final charge down the hill to the beam, then through the Citadel to open the ward arms, had been a suicide mission. It was a grunt's rush. They threw every able bodied soldier at it, including herself, to try to tip the statistical odds of success in their favour, but still, it had been a slim to none chance.

Shepard looked directly up into the cloud covered sky. How in hell had she gotten back down. Then a wave of vertigo hit her, and she felt herself swoon. Her vision blurred even more and her brain felt like it was being squeezed. Her cybernetics were completely screwed, she was certain, and she might only have a few minutes before they failed completely. Surviving the run and the Citadel and whatever the Crucible did *and* getting back to Earth alive, only to die of 'injuries sustained'.

"Fuck that," she was not going to let herself die alone. Not without at least trying to take something else out with her. "Where's a fucking husk when you need one."

She noticed an orange glowing ball puncture the cloud cover, and watched as it streaked the sky in an almost completely vertical course to the ground. Probably one of their own cruisers on its way down, after being mostly destroyed in space. They were probably being slaughtered up there. Or rather, *had* probably been slaughtered up there, and she could almost see what the raging battle had looked like in her minds eye.

In fact, she was sure she *had* seen the battle. She could remember being on the Citadel, remember reaching the beam, but the memories after evacing Liara and Tali, felt like the shadow of a dream.

Just thinking gave Shepard a stellar headache, but shutting her eyes filled the front of her skull with relief, and maybe dropping dead right then and there wasn't such a bad idea. But reality was far crueler than she could ever imagine and the pain of reopening her eyes, all but vanished to the new sight above her.

The massive bulk of the Crucible pushing the clouds aside and falling into the sky.

She watched it for a moment, and idly thought that it looked like the universe was taking a station sized dump on her. There was no way in hell she could out run it, and in any case, she'd never escape the shock wave, but being crushed to death, was really sounding a whole lot better than what she'd been faced with a few seconds ago. She wasn't sure why, it just did.

Her end was near, and she felt more relieved by the prospect then she ever thought possible. Finally, she wouldn't need to fight endlessly, wouldn't need to give life or death orders, and wouldn't need to get up so god damn early every day. A day with an end and not just one blurring into the next. That had some wonderful prospects to it, but it was also a shame, she'd never get another chance to coax Samara into a relationship.

Shepard closed her eyes again and let her thoughts of Samara stir. The Asari had to feel something more than friendship for her, why else would she keep re-avowing her Oath of Subsumation. Just so she could attend her, 'we're all gonna die' party, or so that they could play at the Arena together. No way in hell, but it wouldn't really matter in a few minutes anyway, so she just let her mind fill with fantasies.

A soft smile broke the blood sealed cracks in her lips, "I'm gonna miss you Samara."

She felt a lot better. Raunchy, Lewd daydreams, and the prospect of an interesting death, could do a lot for a person's disposition and for once, it seemed like the universe was going to leave her alone and not bother her. The breeze even managed to slip past her event horizon of pain and cool her burning flesh. Her life had never been peaceful, but her death sure seemed like it was going to be.

She just *knew*, something was going to fuck it up. Jane Shepard isn't allowed to enjoy anything, not for very long anyway, so it wasn't a surprise to her when off in the distance, she could hear angry and panicked shouting. It meant that she'd to stay alive for a few more minutes, or hours, and look brave. Maybe even save some moron's ass.

"We got'a get out'a here, that things comin' down!" the predicted ass bitched at the top of his lungs.

Shepard was sure that he was undoubtedly the proud recipient, of a few extra chromosomes.

"We will not be leaving this place until we are certain Shepard is not here."

The Phoenix's eyes snapped open at the sound of Samara's voice. Dieing with the maturely sexy Justicar around, was a lot better of an option then being squashed to death alone. Quickly, she turned toward the honey thick voice, almost spinning herself to the ground, but she stayed on her feet and took off back up the slope. She stumbled and surged with every other step, her head spun and pounded and all the pain that had faded when she had resigned herself to death, came stabbing and throbbing back, but she kept pushing herself forward, she had to make it to the top.

"Justicar," a second feminine voice shouted, "the area was evacuated when the beam stopped."

"We got less than five minutes before that thing hits the ground!" the ass spoke again.

Shepard pushed her comm, "Samara, Shepard, I'm in no man's land."

"You may go if you wish," Samara replied to the male, "I will at least make a brief inspection."

Shepard tried her comm again, "Samara." When there was no reply, she shouted, "Samara!"

Her lungs began to burn and the hole through her stomach that she'd mercifully forgotten about, started to stab. Every cut on her face stung to hell and her skin felt like she'd been covered in thermite. The exertion was probably messing with her cybernetics, making everything hurt worse.

"Hey!" she shouted again, "I'm here, in no man's land!"

Samara's chest tightened at the sound of the Commander's voice, "Shepard!"

The Phoenix looked up the slope, searching for the Justicar, and standing there at the top, she saw a patch of blue dotting a streak of pure black, but her vision was beyond blurry and she couldn't tell if it was Samara or not. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to clear the blurriness, and when she opened them again, she saw a second patch of blue on the horizon, but this one was clad in red with hints of black and gold.

"Justicar!" the other Asari shouted and pointed, "I see her."

Samara searched in the direction the Maiden indicated, and immediately felt her body flare with shock. Even though she had hoped to find Shepard alive, truthfully, she had suspected that the chances of doing so, were slight at best, but now, seeing the Woman alive and healthy enough to be running toward her, threw Samara's emotions into a turmoil, and evaporated what little remained of her centuries of discipline and training. In an instant, the hardened Code Warrior was stripped away, reducing her to the simple matron she truly was.

The sight of the Asari made Shepard smile even wider, further breaking open the wounds on her lips, but it was short lived, taking her eyes off the ground had thrown her balance, and she started to crash down onto the oily dirt.

The stumble broke Samara out of her shock, and she sprinted down the hill to try to catch the Woman's fall, but it was impossible from their distance and Shepard hit the ground. A moment later, the former Justicar was beside the Commander, kneeling and taking her head into her lap. Then she took one of the Woman's hands into her own and laced their fingers together.

Shepard felt a calm spread through her body at the touch, and wouldn't have been surprised if the Asari had melded with her, but it was quickly replaced by duty and worry.

"Samara, what happened," she barked out a thick wet cough, "where's the Normandy and where's Anderson."

"You have done it Shepard," the former Justicar replied, "you destroyed the Reapers." She squeezed the Woman's fingers, "but I am uncertain where Anderson is and at last report, the Normandy was attempting to rescue you from the Citadel."

In the distance, the pulsing burble of a shuttle's engines invaded the still air.

"I did it," the Phoenix couldn't help but smirk at herself; then quickly sobered, "what about the fleet. Is Hackett and my mother still alive."

Samara began to unconsciously caress Shepard's hairline, but was distracted from answering her question when the human male asked his.

"Why're her pupils white like that?"

"You will be silent dull stone," she swiftly reprimanded him.

Shepard's mind was trying to piece her situation together, and clouded eyes were a distinct symptom. "Fuck," she tried to move, "Samara you need to get away from me. I've been irradiated, I'll contaminate you."

It didn't take much for the Justicar to hold the Woman in place. "Be still Shepard," she began softly, "all will be well."

"I need to be isolated..."

Samara cut her off, "there is not the time," she pulled the Spectre's head against her stomach, "we will deal with the consequences later. For now, rest."

"My cybernetics are fried," Shepard offered, "Whenever I exert myself, I feel like I'm going to drop dead."

"Do not worry," the former Justicar cradled and caressed the Woman's head much as she would a babe, "The need for exertion is over, simply try to relax."

The Phoenix felt unconsciousness begin to take her, and there was really no telling if she'd ever wake up again. The prospect of death had always been pleasant, and with Samara there, she might even feel comfortable, but she needed to tell the Asari how she felt first. It was an incredibly selfish thing to do, to proclaim her feelings so close to death, and it'd probably make the Justicar uncomfortable to hear it in front of others, but she hoped that her impending end might make Samara more forthcoming with her own emotions.

"I love you Samara," she couldn't help it, she was selfish and manipulative, but she needed the Asari, even if it was only for a few minutes.

The former Justicar gently caressed the curious shape of the woman's ear, "as I love you Shepard."

It startled Samara when Shepard breathed out all her tension, and went completely limp. For a moment, she thought that the Woman had surrendered to death, and she would never begrudge her the right to do so, but she had wished for the opportunity for them to give into their desires for one another. She had wanted to leave behind the four hundred years of isolation, and embrace a life with the righteous and courageous Woman. A young being who showed more wisdom and strength, than those of the former Justicar's peers. But Shepard took a breath and the aching stillness of the moment was broken. Samara's relief was stronger than she could have ever expected, and it was an enormous effort for her to contain the emotion.

The pulsing burble of the shuttle grew closer, it's engines screaming and throbbing as they were pushed beyond their maximum, trying to reach the group and extract them before they were all crushed by the falling Crucible.

"I'd say we have about three and a half minutes ma'am," the human male was getting progressively more agitated.

"That doesn't give us much time Justicar," the Asari huntress was much calmer but looked equally worried.

Samara tried to placate them both, "We will have sufficient time."

The Crucible looked as though it was suspended unmoving in the air, as if it was simply looming over the landscape, but when Samara eyed the weapon against the backdrop of the horizon, it was easy to see that the gap was closing fast. Each millimetre that the gap closed represented hundreds if not thousands of meters, but thankfully the distance was great and there was a chance to escape out from under it. Her only concern was that they would be enveloped by the shock wave. When it did finally strike the surface, it would no doubt shake the ground for many kilometres, and cast dirt and debris for at least that distance.

The shuttle was finally in sight, and flying directly towards them. The group stared at its approach anxiously, more than ready to be rid of the uncertainty, and each preying in their own way that nothing bad would happen to the tiny craft.

Shepard began to stir at its approach, pain and discomfort evident in her brow, and at first, Samara suspected that the noise was disturbing the Woman, worsening the pain in her already throbbing head, but when the vessel began to brake its panicked speed, the Spectre began to writhe and choke, and her eyes opened to search the landscape.

"Report," she could barely force the word out.

Samara continued to try to sooth the Woman with touch, "we are being extracted from the area."

"What?" Shepard's face was twisted with pain and confusion, which only worsened when the shuttle fired its manoeuvring jets. She groaned in agony and clutched at the pain in her body as the shuttle came down for a landing.

The door slid open to reveal a male soldier. "We gotta move!" he ordered.

With some effort, Samara lifted the writhing woman into the air. She tried hard to clutch the body into her own and still some of the thrashing, but the closer to the shuttle they became, the worse Shepard's spasms grew.

Once they were within arms reach, the Soldier grabbed the twitching and writhing Commander, and harshly tossed her onto the deck.

The former Justicar found herself upset with the male's treatment of such a hero, but suppressed any outward reaction, it was more important to bring the Woman to a medical camp then to treat her body with reverence.

With everyone loaded, the shuttle lifted off and Sped away, but with each passing second, Shepard's condition worsened. She began to choke for every breath as her muscles tensed and spasmed, and it looked to Samara as though she were having a seizure. The former Justicar was unwilling to let the Woman go in such a condition. Passing peacefully into whatever may come next after a declaration of love, was an acceptable death, but if Shepard wished to fight for her every breath, then Samara would join her in the struggle.

She rose up on her knees, pressed the Woman's shoulders to the deck, and barked an order to no one in particular, "sedative." When her demand was not as forthcoming as she expected, she flared her biotics and shouted, "now!"

Immediately, one of the shuttles occupants, she did not care who, pressed a single dose syringe to Shepard's jugular. Within moments her writhing stilled, but she did not completely calm nor did her breathing improve much, but it was enough to allow Samara to work. She began pulling pieces of the Woman's armour off until her torso was exposed, then with her Omni-tool, sliced the thermal-elastic fabric open, exposing the angry and discoloured wound in her stomach.

"Medi-gel," she held out her hand, caring only that her order be followed.

Once the capsule was in her palm, she injected it directly into the exposed muscle, threw the empty aside, and ordered another. This one, she broke open to slather over the wound, repeating the process on the Woman's back; then more delicately, she applied small streaks to the cuts on Shepard's face and mouth. The broken and torn skin immediately began to close, but that did nothing to ease the pained expression on the Spectre's face. Her breaths were little more than irregular gasps, and her body continued to spasm even in unconsciousness.

It seemed that the Universe demanded that The Saviour Of The galaxy, pay a tribute of suffering for her act of heroism, and all Samara could do, was stare at the tortured face of the Being she had come to love, but the sudden stillness from her lap, jolted her out of her reverie, and an instant later, the sound of the high pitched tone from her Omni-tool, replaced it with panic. The former Justicar did not hesitate, she rolled back onto her knees and leveraged herself to compress Shepard's chest.

"AED," she commanded before hyperventilating the CO2 out of her lungs.

The Asari Huntress caught the small device from the human who threw it from the front of the craft. She broke the protective cover open as Samara leaned in to breath for the lifeless Commander.

"Hey!" the pilot shouted from the front, "don't use that thing if she's flat lining!"

Samara was not listening, she only interrupted her single minded motions to grab a single dose injector from the top of the device.

"He's right," the Soldier chimed in, "they tol'us not to use those things tha'd way."

The Justicar continued as if no one else was there. With her thumb she snapped the lid off the cylinder, pressed it upward into the woman's diaphragm, then slapped the end as hard as she could. Unlike the other injector, which made a soft tone with a hiss, this one made a loud and chilling clack, but while the sound shocked the other occupants, Samara quietly continued.

"Hey! Idiots! Place the god damn pads while she's doing compressions," again, it was the Pilot who was the voice of wisdom.

"No, no, no," the Soldier stopped the Huntress from doing what they were instructed. "You gotta have bare skin or it won't work."

He cut the rest of Shepard's thermal-elastic fabric off during one of Samara's breaths, while the Huntress peeled the slips of waxy paper off the pad's sticky surface. When they were ready, she reached between the Justicar's hands and placed them in the way the image displayed them to.

"Is that right?" she asked, quickly losing her calm facade at the seemingly endless stress. "Is this it?"

The defibrillator's hologram lit up, and blinked the word Arrest, over a nearly straight line.

"God damn it sir!" the Soldier shouted, "it's flat. She's flat."

"I hear that you idiot," the pilot replied, "minute thirty to the LZ ma'am and it's not going to be pretty. That thing's set to come down right as we're landing."

"Understood pilot," Samara replied.

Everyone but Samara's hopes were dwindling, it was only she who wasn't surprised when the device gave a sharp tone.

"Stand clear," it's piercing interlaced voice commanded, "do not touch patient."

Shepard's body then jolted.

"Breath patient," it continued, and Samara did without hesitation.

A moment later, it sounded again, "Stand clear. Do not touch patient."

This time, Shepard groaned when she twitched, and tried to roll onto her side.

"Breath patient," Samara calmly reached over the Woman to change the device's settings.

The Soldier turned to the front of the craft smiling, "christ. She's breathin' sir."

"God damn it, I can hear that. Just over a minute now, ma'am. When we land you should pull that thing off her, we don't know if they'll be an EMP."

"I understand pilot," the Justicar nodded.

The AED beeped, "Stand clear. Do not touch patient. Do not breath patient."

Shepard twitched and whined, "awh, take it off."

Samara petted the Woman's forehead, "I am afraid I cannot Shepard. Your heart is not beating regularly."

"Then knock me out."

"I am afraid I cannot do that either. A sensitive..." she began, but Shepard interrupted her.

"Then just fucking hit me," she begged.

The device beeped again.

"Fuck, kill me."

"Stand clear. Do not touch patient."

"At least shut the uhh," she twitched at the shock and began to shiver.

Samara pushed her shoulders back to the deck, "all will be well Shepard. Be patient. We are almost at the medical camp."

"Please," the Phoenix choked on a sob, "stop being so positive. I can't take it."

Shepard gritted her teeth, and swallowed her sound of pain as the device went off again.

"I don't know what's worse. Being electrocuted or feeling like my implants are trying to jump out." Her brow furrowed as she half cried, "I really need to hit something."

The Huntress knelt prouder, and offered herself to the human who had saved everyone's life, "you may strike me if you wish Commander Shepard."

Before Samara could negate what the young maiden had said, or still the Woman's movements, Shepard swung with all her pain, and connected squarely with the Asari's temple. The impact sent the Huntress flopping over onto her side, unmoving and flat cheeked against the deck.

"Shit ma'am," the Soldier laughed, "you knocked her out cold."

"Will you shut up," Shepard chided as she collapsed.

Samara eyed the Woman evenly, but remained silent.

"She shouldn't have offered," the Phoenix defended, "and it made me feel better.

"I am certain that will bring the Huntress satisfaction, that is, when she regains consciousness."

Shepard's head pounded as she tried to think. "What happened, where's the Normandy."

"You defeated the Reapers, but your short term memory has somehow been damaged. You are forgetting events as they happen. And I do not know where the Normandy is."

"We're coming in," the Pilot interrupted them, "stand fast until the shock wave passes."

Samara tilted her head slightly, still regarding the Woman in front of her, "and the Crucible is falling from orbit."

Shepard almost scoffed at how minor the Asari made it sound, it was only a big god damn thing, the size of a station and crashing into the Earth, but she was in way too much pain for sarcasm. It felt as though her brain was trying to pound its way out of her head, and when the engines flared to slow them down, it made it worse, so much worse. The pulsating sound resonated in her body, making her feel as if she was being torn apart from the inside out. It was obvious that her implants were failing, and if those failed, she was dead.

The Woman's writhing and growls of pain only worsened, her heart beat came more irregular, and Samara could do little to nothing to help, only uselessly try to comfort. Her life as a Justicar saw her save no one, she was a defender of The Code, not a saviour like Shepard. A Justicar would kill to protect, carry wounded to safety, summon medical attention, but when one was close to death in their presents, it was viewed as a simple act of nature, the will of The Goddess. Not since the death of her bondmate had she sat by someone's side, wishing that she were more capable. Shepard on the other hand became enraged by death, and driven to conquer it with every being she met; Samara was simply cowed, and even in the face of losing a fourth being she deeply loved, she felt herself succumb to her old habits. Being unable to beg and barter the unknown for her love's well being, filled the former Justicar's face with the deepest shame.

The shuttle vibrated and shook as it made its violent final approach, and Shepard screamed in harmony with the straining engines, but it was over in a few seconds with a bang and the shutter of hitting the ground.

"Touchdown," the Pilot shouted, "full shutdown."

The soldier flinched toward the AED, "hey, the Commander's heart beat's fine now."

Shepard groaned, her voice weak and broken, "someone please shut him up."

"Shit," the Pilot jumped out of his seat, "they're fucking coming out." He went for the door while shouting, "everyone bail!"

Samara reached to tear the defibrillator pad's from Shepard's chest, but the Woman grabbed her behind the neck and pulled her closer.

"Find Miranda," the Phoenix's voice was threaded with desperation, "find her Samara. She's the only person who'll know how to fix the implants."

Samara felt the Woman's desperation seep into her chest, "I will find her Shepard. I promise you this."

Before either could do or say anything more, several pairs of hands grabbed and pulled at the Commander's body. Within seconds she was installed into an isolation stretcher and rushed toward the camp's entrance. Samara would be little help if she followed, but she had a task to occupy herself with, and an unconscious maiden to haul into the makeshift building.

The Soldier watched as the Justicar easily threw the other Asari over her shoulder, before sprinting to the door. He followed at her heels, and was surprised at the Asari's strength and ease of movement, despite carrying the weight of a whole extra person. She really seemed anything but the delicate woman he believed all her peoples to be.

"Incoming seismic pressure wave," the camps VI droned, "brace yourself. Do not lie on the floor. Do not lean against the wall."

Samara dropped the Huntress onto her bottom and squatted to hold her upright.

The younger Asari jerked and swooned, "was Commander Shepard comforted by my offer Justicar?"

"Yes Huntress, she was, but it was still a foolish gesture of youth."

"I understand Justicar."

Then the world began to shake violently, but it was nothing like the vibrations most were accustomed to on a ship or station. It felt as though the planet was attempting to buck them off the surface, and while the tremors in space lasted only a few seconds, these dragged on.

It became progressively more difficult for Samara to remain upright, especially while trying to hold another being. Reflexively she put her hand against the wall for support, but snatched it away almost immediately, the vibrations from the metal surface threatening to break her bones. She prayed it would end soon, but even as the earth beneath them cast its anguish, the sky burst with its own torment.

The violence was more than Samara had ever witnessed. It was more power than the Reapers had wielded, and for a moment she thought this would be the end of them all, but the shaking began to die down, the howling wind calmed. The ground was once again firm, the sky less deadly, but the home planet of humans, bore another scar. The air outside which had already been darkened by the damage inflicted by the Reapers, was darker still, and now carried in it a thick soup of dust and debris.

Samara propped the Huntress against the wall, "notify me immediately if Commander Shepard's condition changes."

The Maiden nodded awkwardly, her head still flopping from her concussion.

Then the Justicar turned to the Soldier, "I require a communicator."

"Uhh, alright," he had no idea where the place might have one, but thought telling the Asari that, might be hazardous to his health. With that unpleasant thought in mind, he began to search aimlessly for a comm, the intimidating Justicar close behind, breathing down his neck with every step.


End file.
